


Hope (is all I have)

by Startanewdream



Series: Jily Lives AU [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, James Potter is a good parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Startanewdream/pseuds/Startanewdream
Summary: They never told James that being a parent meant worrying about your kid all the time.Or how James deals with the fact that Harry is leaving for an unknown quest.Set during HP and the Deathly Hallows.
Relationships: Harry Potter & James Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Series: Jily Lives AU [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116542
Comments: 33
Kudos: 57





	1. Hope (is all I have)

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I wrote in "The Other Marauder" that James couldn't deal well with Harry leaving to hunt Horcruxes, I thought of writing more about this period and his feelings.
> 
> This is (probably) the only story of this series that I won't mark as finished because I hope to write a second part for this piece.

'No', is the first word James says after fifteen minutes of silence while hearing Harry explain in a quiet voice how he is not going back to Hogwarts next year. 'You are not going to leave like that'.

Harry just blinks, looking at his father with an eerily calm that doesn't do anything to relax James.

His son is not even seventeen yet. He shouldn't be so at ease talking about a mysterious task set by a dead man.

'I have to', Harry says with all the conformism of someone that's been recruited for war, and James wonders at what point his son has just become that.

A soldier.

And then that lingering annoyance he had felt in the last nine months with Dumbledore increases, turning into burning anger, pure hatred for the former headmaster, and James has a mind to go to Hogwarts scream at his portrait.

_How could you die and leave a mission for my son? You told me you would help protect him. You told me I could trust you. You never told me you were sending him to do your bidding._

He remembers that day, almost one year ago, when Dumbledore had called for James and Lily, had given each an Order mission - both weird, but they _had trusted_ him as always - and then had told them he would be meeting Harry the next year.

‘You know about the prophecy’, Dumbledore had reminded them. ‘There are things Harry need to understand if Voldemort comes for him again’.

Lily had grasped James’ hand and had asked: ‘Will this help him?’

‘Everything I tell him is of the utmost importance’.

‘And you can’t tell us?’, James had asked, but he already knew the answer. Years being in the Order had taught him no one - except Dumbledore - ever knew everything, and, as Remus would put, it all would come down to the fact whether they trusted Dumbledore or not.

James and Lily had decided to place their trust in him a long time ago.

‘Will it help him to… survive? Will you protect him?’, James asked then, and Dumbledore had given him a soft smile.

‘I will’, Dumbledore had promised and that somehow had made James feel better.

No matter the secrecy, he believed Dumbledore cared for Harry too.

But now Dumbledore is dead, killed by someone he dared to trust in - _Severus Snape, of course, a Death Eater never changes ways, does he, and Snape had never got over their childhood animosity_ \- and James knows how it feels to put all your trust in the wrong person.

But he can’t allow Dumbledore’s plans to go on like this - isn’t his death prove that not even he could foresee everything? That maybe his plans were miscalculated?

'James…', Lily calls him softly, but he can pretend he didn't hear. He is angry at her too, because she heard Harry's warning that he would be leaving without a shadow of surprise on her face as if she had always known what Harry would do.

And she had not warned him before.

If she had, James could have… he could have stopped Harry's plan somehow, could have talked to his son, could have thought of another way, any other way just to Harry wouldn't be leaving them, could have prepared in advance his arguments…

Except Harry never asked for their permission, never asked what his parents thought about it.

He just announced he will be leaving.

'You are too young, Harry!', James cries and Harry doesn't even blink. A year ago he would have fought James for this statement, would have been mad and insisted he was old enough, but now his son is just waiting patiently and quietly, not wanting to fight. This does not calm him. 'There is nothing you “have to do”, other than going back to school and -’

‘Dad’, Harry cuts him off softly. ‘I _love_ Hogwarts, you know it. I wouldn’t be dropping out of school if it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t important for all of us’.

‘Leaving school for something you can’t even tell us? That doesn’t make sense! _We_ are in the Order, if there was anything to be done then Dumbledore -’

‘Dumbledore told me I shouldn’t tell anyone’, Harry says loyally and for once James hates this particular trait of Harry, wishes his son weren’t so stubborn.

Except he probably was the one that taught Harry how to stick to his beliefs. This thought also doesn’t calm him.

James scoffs.

‘As if Ron and Hermione don’t know’.

‘He allowed me to tell them’, Harry agrees shamelessly. ‘But only them’, he adds, looking at James, and that’s how he knows that Harry and Dumbledore have discussed this in one of their mysterious meetings and that Dumbledore expressly didn’t want James and Lily to know.

The anger burns brighter. They are his parents; they should know.

‘And they are coming with you? To whatever you are doing?’

A fierce expression crosses Harry’s face.

‘They don’t have to’, Harry says, and there is pride and love in his voice as he talks of his friends. ‘But they are choosing to’.

 _They are barely out of age_ , James thinks. _How can you want your friends by your side but not your parents? How can Dumbledore think that three teenagers are better than parents who would die for you?_

Why Dumbledore didn’t want, James and Lily to be there for Harry?

‘You are not going’, James repeats, crossing his arms, and Lily turns to frown at him.

‘James’, she calls him again, her voice loud and reprehensive now.

‘You can’t forbid me, Dad’, Harry says, sounding sad, as if he wishes James could actually do that. ‘I’ll be of age in two weeks - your love protection will be over then, and there will be nothing standing between me and Voldemort. That’s how it has to be’.

‘No’, James disagrees forcefully. ‘I will be there between you two. Once again. I will find him before you do if I have to -’

‘No!’, Harry cries, looking distressed now. ‘You can’t go - there are things that need to be done first - things you don’t understand -’

‘Then TELL ME!’

Lily grabs his arm now, calling for him, but James’ eyes don’t get away from Harry - who doesn’t flinch when James cried, who is once again calm and composed.

His son is so certain of his destiny - going on an unknown mission to defeat Voldemort - that he is _at peace_.

Somehow this makes James more furious.

‘I can’t’.

‘Can’t or won’t?’

‘Both’, Harry says, and James feels a sudden urge to throw things, to hex something, to do _anything_ instead of feeling helpless like that.

Harry doesn’t want him, doesn’t need him and while James always knew this day would come - the one where Harry is an adult, where he makes his own decisions -, he never thought it would be like this.

‘Fuck, Harry’, he whispers. ‘That’s not what I wanted for you - you should be worried about school and what you are going to do after graduation and… Merlin, you have a girlfriend, you can’t just -’

‘We broke up’, Harry tells him and now James can see a crack in Harry’s coolness.

‘What? That’s why you are going? Can’t deal with a heartbreak and –‘

‘No, I – I was the one to end things’.

‘You fancied Ginny for _ages_ , what were you thinking -’

‘James’, Lily cuts him, looking sadly at Harry. ‘He did it for her own good. To protect her’.

 _Of course._ Doing the noble thing is so like his son.

But James shakes his head.

‘He would protect her a lot more if he were by her side! How can you think that - that leaving her alone is better?’ Harry’s face is pale now, but James can’t stop, not if he is seeing something that can make Harry doubt his mission, if it’s enough to make him stay. ‘You will just left her behind - don’t you care how she will feel not knowing what is -’

'I care, that's why -'

'If you really care you wouldn't leave!'

‘James!’, Lily cries now, her face red, making them both jump. She looks livid. ‘Harry, go to your room’.

‘Me?’, Harry asks, surprised and annoyed. ‘I didn’t -’

‘Just go, Harry. We will talk later’.

The fact that Harry looks at his mother’s face and seems to understand at once what is there doesn’t make James any better.

‘In my office, now’, Lily tells him, pushing him inside the room, and James has a mind to fight her, but he won’t for this. All his focus will be on arguing with Harry.

Lily closes the door, casting an Imperturbable Charm on the door, and turns to James with anger that immediately rises his own. She is mad at _him_? While she stayed cool and calm with Harry, who will be leaving them for God knows why?

In fact, now he realizes Lily didn’t say anything to dissuade Harry of his plans, almost as if she expected him to go on, almost as if she agrees with what he is doing.

He can’t believe that.

‘What the hell were you thinking?’, Lily hisses to him. ‘Playing the guilty card on him?’

James crosses his arms, refusing to stand down.

‘I will play any cards I have to, Lily’.

‘Our son already has the craziest saving-people thing I ever heard of. Do you really want to make him worried about Ginny while he is away? Do you know what this will do to him?’

‘I don’t care as long as he stays. He can’t go’.

Her eyes are on fire.

‘Stop pretending otherwise, James, Harry will go anyway’.

‘I won’t -’

‘You can’t stop him. I can’t stop him. Don’t you think I want to lock him in his room and don’t let him leave until this bloody war is over?’

‘Do you?’, James counters, seeing no reason. ‘Because you didn’t say a word about him going’.

‘Of course I don’t want him to go! But Harry will be an adult soon and he gets to make his own choices. I won’t stand in his way’.

‘Well, I will! I will make him feel guilty or anything I have to do to -’

‘Are you listening to me? Are you listening to yourself? How can Harry focus on whatever he needs to be done if he is worried something might happen to his ex-girlfriend? To us?’

‘That’s the problem, Lily’, James whispers, sitting on a chair and feeling only dread now. ‘He shouldn’t be focusing on anything, he should -’

‘I _know,_ James’, she assures him, kneeling by his side and taking his hand. ‘I hate everything about it too. They are children, all of them, but… but so were we’. She raises her free hand to touch his face and James leans into her touch, hoping that somehow she can fix everything. ‘And nobody stopped us’.

‘Maybe they should’, James whispers. ‘Maybe somebody should have looked at us and said, “hey, these guys are just kids, they should not be fighting a war”!’.

Lily smiles sadly at him.

‘And would you have listened to them? Would you have heeded those wise words and stand aside?’

They both know the answer, just as James knows that he _chose_ to be part of this. He never needed, not really - alone, he was pureblood, so he could have stayed quiet in his place, not taking part in anything, living his life normally.

Except that really never was an option for him. He always believed in doing the right thing.

Something he had made sure to teach Harry.

‘It’s my fault’, he whispers suddenly, and Lily looks alarmed at the tone of misery in his voice. ‘I told Harry all these stories about heroes, about being a Gryffindor and being noble…’

‘James’, Lily begins, and he sees she is almost smiling. ‘We tried to teach a lot of things to Harry and I am sure he understood all the right lessons, but being noble and brave and impulsive… that’s on him. We never taught him to go after the Philosopher’s Stone or to go search for an ancient chamber or to stay behind to save that little girl on the Triwizard Tournament. That’s who he is’.

‘I wish he were different’.

‘Do you?’, Lily asks him back, raising his eyebrows, and James shakes his head.

She hugs him, and he feels tears dropping uncontrollably, born of the guilty he really feels: how can he love so much all that Harry is - his belief, his good heart - when being like this is so dangerous for Harry? How can he be so damn proud of Harry and still fear for him?

‘I can’t, Lily’, he sobs. ‘I can’t give him my - my _blessing_ \- I can’t say it’s _alright_ -’

She caresses his hair soothingly, but this doesn’t really help. He just feels even guiltier - they should be with Harry now, somehow supporting him even when his son doesn’t seem to need it, but instead, Lily is here comforting him because he can’t get a grip on his feelings.

‘ _Please_ ’, he asks. ‘Stop him from going’.

She kisses his forehead, and he feels the wetness on her face. Lily is crying too.

‘I wish I could, James’, she whispers, and they stay embraced together for a long time.

* * *

Over the next days James hears no mention of Harry leaving, but he has planned enough pranks in his time to see all the preparation going on - how Lily spends nights crafting Polyjuice Potions, how Harry is reading about medicine spells, how Moony comes to visit him and gives him tips about concealing and safety charms.

James presses his lips and doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he concentrates on devising a plan to get them away from their house safely, now that the love protection is close to ending. There are many Order meetings until Mundungus, of all people, suggests a plan and they are discussing it when Kingsley mentions that they will also need to provide Harry with some other safe houses for when he is away.

That makes him clench his hands and grit his teeth so he doesn’t say anything; across the table Molly looks just as angry as him. _Hum,_ he thinks. If somehow they can work to delay their plans, if they can keep Harry, Ron and Hermione as separate as they can so they have no time for planning -

It’s not an effective plan, but it is more time to convince Harry that his idea is just crazy.

‘We don’t know how long the Ministry will hold’, Kingsley is saying. ‘But we have to give Harry a good chance to -’

‘No, it’s not our job to give my son _a chance’_ , James hears himself saying without being able to control. Lily grips his arm, warningly, and he forces himself to breathe slowly.

‘James’, Kingsley starts, in his deep voice that does nothing to ease James’ nerves. ‘Nobody likes it, we all want to do our part, but you can’t deny Harry -’

‘My son is sixteen still, Kingsley’, James says as controlled as he can manage. ‘There is no _part_ for him’.

They all avoid his eyes now, except Remus, and James can’t fault anyone. Everyone knows he is bluffing - _the Chosen One,_ the Daily Prophet calls him, and everyone here knows Harry is involved in that bloody prophecy they spent a year protecting.

‘James’, calls Remus, looking at him with a sad expression. ‘The last thing Dumbledore told us - Kingsley and I - was that we should trust Harry because he is our best hope’.

‘He is a _child_!’, James cries, standing up. ‘He is not a beacon of hope for - for you to use it - to _hide_ behind him and let him save us all!’

‘Nobody is going to hide, James’, Remus says, trying to reach him, but for once James can’t stand him - or Lily, who tries to touch his arm in support. ‘We all care about Harry!’

‘Then stop letting everything on his shoulders!’, he says, and then the room is too full of people looking at him, all sympathetic, but all also unwilling to ensure that Harry won’t go.

He leaves the kitchen, ignoring once more Lily’s attempt to call him - he never felt so out of synchrony with her before -, to find a beautiful summer day outside the Burrow. He walks restlessly until he hears thumping sounds coming from the orchard ahead.

When he gets closer, he sees Ginny flying in the sky, but what makes him stop in the Beater’s bat in her hand, which she turns around over and over to hit a tennis ball that always comes in her direction, until, finally, she catches the ball in her hand.

‘Nice catch’, James says when she lands next to him. Her face is all sweaty from the flight and Ginny just shrugs.

‘Easy when the ball is charmed to hit your face’.

‘Training to be a Beater now?’, he asks, his voice only mild teasingly. ‘Seeker and Chaser are not enough for you?’

‘It is the best thing to relief stress’, she answers, flexing her arm. James thinks it was not very helpful, considering she clearly looks upset. ‘The meeting is over already?’

‘No, they are still discussing’, James says, frowning, and Ginny grimaces.

‘That good?’

James shakes his head, not wanting to discuss.

‘Fine, keep your secrets’, she says, and James can detect the tone of anger in her voice, the same one he has been hearing on his own lately. ‘Why tell little Ginny anything? It’s nothing like I care about - about you all’.

‘It’s not… not about secrets’, he says, somehow calmer now that he understands he is not the only one annoyed with the situation. ‘They are finishing the plan to get Harry here safe, I’m sure you will know soon - you live here after all’.

She sighs.

‘Sorry. It’s just Mom never wants to tell me nothing, and even Hermione is keeping her mouth shut lately and… I just feel helpless’.

‘Welcome to the club’, he replies grimly, making her raise her eyebrows.

‘You are in the Order, at least you get to know things’.

James rolls his eyes.

‘Big deal when the Order doesn’t seem to know anything about stuff that really matters’.

Ginny looks at him with more attention.

‘You mean Harry’, she says, and he hears the slight tremble in her voice as she speaks his name. ‘You guys don’t know about his plans either’.

‘And you?’, he asks, a pleading tone in his voice for anything she might say that can help him understand - and prevent - Harry. ‘He never said anything?’

She crosses her arms, looking away from him.

‘What do you think?’, she asks, sounding miserable and angry. ‘Of course he didn’t tell me - I was okay for a good snog, but why would he share anything important with me?’

‘Ginny’, he calls her softly, all his paternal instincts arising with a need to comfort her. 'You know how he feels about you'.

She takes a deep breath.

'Yeah, I do', she agrees in a small voice. 'I just wish he wouldn't leave me behind'.

'We all do', he replies and Ginny shares a knowing look with him. 

For a minute they stay in silence, then she says forcefully: 'He will come back. We just need to hang on'.

'What do you mean?'

She bits her lips and opens a pocket on her jacket. A Golden Snitch flies away, and Ginny catches the Snitch easily, making its wings relax instantly at her touch. Flesh memories, James knows.

'Harry, he - he wants a quiet life, you know’, she whispers more to herself than to him. ‘He is not in this for adventure, for the glory. He is doing what needs to be done and he wouldn’t be happy if he were doing anything else’.

James looks at Ginny. She is right, he knows, but the way she speaks of him…

‘You are in love with him, aren’t you?’

She blushes slightly, her eyes fixed on the Golden Snitch that she releases once more before catching it.

‘Doesn’t matter right now’, she says. ‘We are not together anymore’.

‘That was not what I asked and of course it matters’, he replies gently. ‘He misses you, you know. There are days that he just stares far away, with that pining look that is pitiful, really’.

She lets out a reluctant laugh.

‘Harry doesn’t _pine_ ’.

‘He does’, James confirms. ‘He did a lot last year even before he realized he fancied you. And now… I suppose it’s worse. I don’t know, I never broke up with Lily’.

‘Lucky you’, she mumbles, with a sad smile.

‘Hey’, James smiles bravely at her. ‘When this is over, you will be together again’.

‘I don’t know if –‘, she shakes her head, stopping herself. ‘Nothing’.

‘What?’

‘It’s not important, really’.

‘If it’s bothering you, then it’s important’.

She looks sideways at him, looking annoyed with herself.

‘I just keep thinking – I don’t know how long he will be gone, and what if – what if in that time apart he meets someone and - and he realizes I’m just… _not good enough_ and –‘

‘You are joking, right?’, James interrupts her. ‘Didn’t I just say he misses you like if you were the only sunlight in his life?’

‘I just wish I could be there for him somehow – oh’, she pauses, opening her eyes, and he sees a sparkle of mischief there. ‘Maybe a good memory’.

‘Do I dare to ask what you are thinking of?’

She smirks, looking much more hopeful now.

‘No, probably not’, Ginny tells him, and they both hear the door of the kitchen opening in the distance and then voices talking animatedly. ‘Guess the meeting is over’.

‘Yeah, I think so’, he pauses, looking at her. ‘Will you be ok?’

She shrugs.

‘I will stay safe. Watch out you too, you know? I know Harry’s impulsive trace doesn’t come from Lily’. He smiles guiltily. ‘And maybe – could you give this Snitch to Harry? It’s – it’s the one I caught in… the last game’.

James knows exactly what happened after such game.

‘Part of your good memory plan?’, he asks.

‘Oh, not even the beginning’, Ginny says mischievously, and when James has to grin back, he decides he won’t ever forgive Harry if they are not back together someday.

* * *

Lily touches his back.

‘James?’, she calls softly. ‘We need to finish Harry’s birthday gift’.

He knows what she is talking about and it’s not _them_ that need to finish the gift, it’s him. It’s his part that is pending.

He nods, without saying anything, and Lily sighs.

‘Do you want some help?’

‘No, I will – I will check the boxes in the living room’.

He raises, not waiting for any answer, and he walks to the living room. It’s filled with boxes, all their things packed to be sent to their vault at Gringotts in an attempt to protect their belongings. There is nothing, really, of importance, but if it will keep Death Eaters busy while searching their porcelain, it’s better for them.

It’s weird seeing their house without all the things that made it their home for the last sixteen years, only a skeleton a house that seems to lack their story. The house feels empty, something he never felt before even when Harry was at Hogwarts and Lily at work and he was alone on his studies.

And he is one day away of saying goodbye to that house until – until this is over, if the Death Eaters even leave the place standing after they search everything. He will miss the place – there are too many good memories of things that happened there – family game nights, friendly meetings with Sirius and Remus, barbecues in the garden, those lonely nights with Lily in front of the fireplace…

That’s what is not in any of the boxes. That’s the most precious thing he will take with him from their house. Memories.

And memories are what James and Lily agreed to give Harry for his seventeenth birthday.

So he forces himself to open one of the boxes, one that has their collection of photos over the years. Lily already asked and selected photos of Harry along with his friends at Hogwarts, but James was tasked to select photos of the time before.

There are thousands of photos, taken from many people along the years, and it's hard to select only a few. James takes first the one from his wedding with Lily, both of them looking so young – they were barely a year older than Harry will soon be – so fresh and smiling, with Sirius shining as his best man. It’s a picture he thinks Harry will like to revisit - to remember that there is always time for happiness.

He picks one where Lily is pregnant with Harry. Despite their fears, she had looked even more beautiful during her pregnancy, and it shows it in the photo – she seems to be glowing, smiling at a young James who is obviously smitten with her. Well, that didn’t change much, he thinks.

There is a photo taken about a week after Harry was born. James and Lily look both tired in that photo – James remembers they didn’t sleep more than three hours per night that first week –, but they are beaming at their sleeping son, watching over him as angels.

Lily is cuddling Harry in the next photo, holding the baby in her arms, and singing a lullaby that is long forgotten; it’s ethereally beautiful, James thinks, and he remembers taking that photo and somehow wanting to capture that moment forever, of the little family he was starting. Then a photo of James with Harry in his arms, holding it as if the baby were made of glass that could be broken at any moment; he remembers how much fear he always felt – he, that could jump into danger just for the pleasure of it -, how much he always wished no harm could get to Harry.

That same fear and wish are still inside him, but somehow _Harry doesn’t want it anymore._ James closes his fist, forcing himself to breath, trying to not feel hurt and scared.

He looks at the next photo. Harry is one-year-old now, flying on that toy broomstick Sirius got him for his birthday, while James runs after him and Lily laughs at the situation. Even when they were hiding, there were those nice good moments.

These good moments seem to shine in the next photos he selects. There is a dog and a stag with Harry, from the first time they told him about being animagi. Another of one day at the beach – Harry is three, laughing as James and Lily bury his body in the sand. The first day he went to the muggle school, looking so smug standing next to a very amused James and Lily. That time they went to an amusement park – Harry had just grown up enough to ride in the roller coaster, and James had felt strangely proud of how Harry seemed to love thrill rides too.

Strangely cropped pictures of that time Harry tried to become a photographer; he was six, and the camera was way too big for him, so they ended up with a dozen of pictures of half-legs and back of the head, that they made a game for years of guessing who it was on the photo. That waving hand is probably Remus, the lustrous hair is obviously Sirius, the pig nose is Tonks that time she went to babysit Harry, and those legs are Lily’s, he is sure. He picks those photos, hoping Harry will enjoy the game one more time.

One day at the zoo, Lily and Harry laughing with big chocolate ice creams cones (a good day, even if it got weird when they found out that Harry could talk with snakes). A photo of James and Harry flying, that first time Harry got to ride a real broom and when they realized Harry was much more fit to a Seeker than a Chaser (Harry had been a little upset until James had throw a dozen of golf balls at him and beamed proudly when Harry got them all).

Then Harry is older. His eleventh birthday, a photo of James laughing while a excited Harry appears and disappears as he is trying the Invisibility Cloak. A picture of them in the Diagon Alley, buying his school stuff – the Harry in the photo can’t stand still, clearly too excited to be going to Hogwarts. Harry with his new trunk and all his school stuff spread in his bed, while Lily helps him to fold his robes – her eyes are shining with tears there, clearly thinking Harry grew up too fast. And then a photo of them in front of the Hogwarts Express, on Harry’s first day at Hogwarts – he looks a bit embarrassed to take a photo with his parents, but since it was Sirius that suggested and Harry never denied Sirius, he is smiling.

A big smile for an eleven-years-old who only wished for a normal year at his school. That photo had been before he understood how famous he really was. Before he met Voldemort for the first real time.

A simpler time.

James watches eleven year of memories and he hopes it will be enough to guide Harry home.

‘Dad?’, he hears Harry calling and he hastily closes the box with the photographs he selected. ‘Mom is calling you for dinner’.

James raises, startled. It’s dark outside already. He didn’t realise how much time he had spent there.

‘Sure, I’ll be going in a minute’.

‘Do you need help with anything? I thought it was all packed here’.

‘No, I was just checking… But it’s okay’.

Harry looks around the living room and sighs.

‘It’s weird. Seeing everything packed. I emptied my school trunk for the first time today’.

‘Found anything useful?’

‘Just pieces of the first mirror – you know, the one I broke’. Harry looks ashamed suddenly. James just shrugs. He remembers why Harry broke it and he won’t fault his son. ‘Still sharp – I cut my finger’.

‘Do you need help?’

‘No, I… I know how to cast healing spells now’.

His eyes meet James’, and then James feels out of breath. He knows why Harry is so concerned with learning such spells.

‘You shouldn’t be casting underage magic’, he says, his voice harsher than before, ignoring the fact that at other times he never complained if Harry did some small things.

‘I know, I just – just wanted to try it’.

‘There is a course in Seventh Year for Healing Spells, Flitwick teaches them perfectly. You will learn in time’.

Harry sighs.

‘Dad –‘

‘No, Harry. You see, that’s why you are not ready – you didn’t finish your education’.

‘I don’t need to for what I have to do’.

‘You think you do, but until last week you barely could cast an _Episkey_. What about healing broken bones? Counter-curses? Merlin, you don’t even have an apparition license!’.

‘And you are not a registered animagus, Dad’, Harry says with an attempt to smile. ‘Sometimes we just know enough. You once told me life is not about grades’.

‘I said it when you were upset with your grade in Potions, not about leaving school!’

‘Dad…’, Harry looks pleadingly at him. ‘It’s our last dinner at home for a very long time. Can we just talk about it later?’

‘Later you will still think about going away?’

‘I’m not _thinking,_ Dad’, he whispers and James wants to shake him - or himself. Harry's decision is already made, James can't change it, and panic rises inside him like a storm.

‘And you can’t tell us anything about it? Can’t even let us know if you are alive? Will you even care if _we_ are alive?’

Harry flinches, but he doesn’t answer. Harry doesn’t want to fight him, James knows. This does not make him feel better – Harry _likes_ to argue, he _hates_ to be quiet. If he is doing that, it’s because he really believes their time together is limited.

James refuses to believe in that. He can’t.

‘I am not hungry’, he says, going upstairs and leaving Harry alone in the hall.

* * *

Harry steals glances in James’ direction, but his son doesn’t approach him. It hurts James to know there is this chasm between them, one that he can’t see to correct for once in his life.

He _can’t_ approach Harry either. Somehow it feels that if they get closer, Harry will think that James approves what his son is doing - and he _can’t_. He is already too worried for Harry.

James already barely survived that night, staying in the Burrow with Lily, feeling hopeless while the rest of the Order had been gone to retrieve Harry. The plan had been logical - they would reveal themselves if they had been with Harry and they would reveal Harry - and it should have been foolproof, but somehow it had all turned bad.

The Death Eaters knew of their plans - _someone had betrayed them,_ James had cried, angry at whoever had elapsed, whoever had broken their trust _(again, he saw it happening_ _before),_ until Harry, his face red from drinking firewhiskey for the first time – _it shouldn’t be like that, we should drink for celebration, not for mourning_ -, had looked at him and said loud and clear and loyally he didn’t believe anyone there would betray them.

James had stared at his son, speechless and torn, barely hearing when Remus had sighed and said ‘you are so like James’. It had sounded both as a compliment as a lament and James could not fault Remus for that.

Harry had looked annoyed at Remus, only hearing the critic there, but James knew that Harry had been upset with Remus ever since Remus had complained that Harry only disarmed someone instead of stunning or _killing_.

James is not sure how he feels about it, not even after days thinking about the matter. How can he wish his son would deliberately kill someone? How can he fear Harry will not survive if he doesn’t cross that line?

There is no easy answer.

He watches Harry from a far; they’ve been talking only the bare minimum lately, though James supposes that part of it is because Harry has been helping to finish the things for the wedding and is tired. Just like he expected, Molly is keeping Harry, Ron and Hermione as apart as he can, though James thinks it won’t be enough. Harry already shares the room with Ron, after all, and Hermione seems to be much more advanced in her plans than he would like.

They will be leaving in days and there is nothing he can do.

On the morning of the last day of July, he stays in bed alone for a long time. Lily is already up, probably making the breakfast for Harry just as she did on each one of his birthdays. He tries to force himself to get up too, to leave the tent he had been sharing with Lily on the garden of the Burrow, and to smile to his son, to be happy for the fact that he is an adult now – wasn’t that what he always expected? That Harry got to grow up?

No one had told him that Harry becoming an adult would mean he would leave to face Voldemort on his own.

Except he thinks of how Harry’s patronus is a stag – his stag, Prongs – and he remembers telling Harry once that he would always be with him, even if James had died.

Guilty arises on him and he feels bad – how can he be more distant from his son being alive than if he were dead?

That makes him get up and throw some water into his face to properly wake him up. It’s his son’s birthday. He can pretend he is not worried and hug Harry and be proud of his son for his seventeenth birthday. If only for today.

But Harry is not at the table when he arrives in the kitchen and when he finally turns up, with Ron and Hermione, they all look strangely tense as if they've been fighting. Harry seems even more distressed, blushing and avoiding glancing Ginny when she enters the kitchen too, though James can’t tell the reason. Ginny is her normal self, but Harry acts as if he feels guilty of just being in the same room as her.

James busies himself with helping prepare Harry’s birthday party, enjoying charming the lights and cooking the birthday cake. Lily throws glances in his direction and he can’t fault her – he knows he is just postponing talking to Harry.

In the middle of the afternoon, Lily calls him when he is talking to Tonks.

‘We have to give him his gift’, she remembers, and James nods, trying not to grimace.

He leaves a radiant Tonks – at her side, Remus is unusually quiet – and they go looking for Harry, who is now laughing with Charlie and Hagrid. As it happens lately when he looks at Harry, James feels a pressure in his chest watching him, a fear of not knowing if this will be the last time he sees his son.

‘James’, Lily calls him, looking at him with a gentle expression. ‘Keep it light, ok?’

He nods silently, not trusting his voice. He thinks it’s easy for Lily to be calm; Harry has been talking to her, he knows, and he saw them whispering together in the garden before lunch. Harry had looked distressed, almost as if he were pleading something to his mother, and when they had hugged, James almost had run to them.

It was only the fear of that hug being a goodbye that had made him stay still.

That’s one of the things they never tell you about being a parent. How you are always fearing something for your kid.

Harry’s expression shifts to uneasy when he sees his parents approaching him, and it’s his most primal need of comforting his son that makes James passes his arm around Harry’s shoulder, messing his hair in the process, and smile as calmly as he can manage:

‘Happy birthday, son’.

Harry blushes, looking briefly in his direction. They are almost the same size now, James notices, but Harry still feels strangely awkward on his birthday, receiving congratulations and gifts, as if even after all these years he still is surprised by the fact that people would care enough about his birthday.

‘We have a gift for you’, Lily says, her eyes shining as she gives him the carefully wrapped gift.

‘There was no need’, Harry says politely, just as Lily once taught him to be when he received a present, and James’ heart hurts at the sight of it.

Harry is his polite, gentle, kind son. Not a soldier.

He unwraps the gift and his green eyes sparkle madly when he sees the photograph album, when his hands turn the pages and he watches a hundred pictures from his infancy to adulthood, Harry with his parents, and with Sirius and Remus, and then with his friends at Hogwarts or in lazy summer days.

Harry is not in all these photos, but in those he is, Harry is not alone.

‘Thank you, mom!’, he whispers, hugging Lily.

‘Just something for you to remember us’, she whispers loudly enough, her eyes on James.

It’s a beautiful gift, and James knows what’s behind this gift – it’s to remember Harry that he is not on a suicide mission, that he has a life to go back to and that he should fight to return to it, to return to them.

It’s supposed to give him _hope_.

Lily breaks apart, raising on her feet to kiss Harry on his cheek and carefully wiping the lipstick mark there, while he rolls his eyes amusedly. Then she throws another look at James and she leaves.

There is a moment of silence.

‘Thanks, dad’, Harry says, sounding awkward as if he doesn’t know if he should hug James too.

‘It was mostly your mother’s idea. I wanted to give you a professional broomstick, but she reminded me it wouldn’t be useful’. For some reason, this comment makes Harry steal a quick glance at Ginny, his face reddening. ‘And Molly asked us if she could give you a watch, so –‘

Harry looks fondly at the watch on his wrist, and James smiles to himself. He was never one to care for traditions, but it seemed important to Molly and, after all, she thought of Harry as her son too.

‘I loved the album’, Harry assures him, pressing the album close to his chest. ‘It will be nice to have it while…’

His voice cuts off, suddenly unsure, and James feels the urge to argue about it once more, to somehow make Harry understand that he doesn’t need to go. It’s not his war to end.

Except somehow it is.

‘There are blank pages in this album’, James explains instead of fighting, his voice trembling. ‘For you to fill later with more memories’.

Harry turns to him and he looks a thousand-years-old when he smiles sadly.

‘Perhaps with that new broom you mentioned?’, he asks in a soft voice, urging James to believe for them both.

He nods, unable to say anything, and Harry moves to embrace him just as a streak of light comes flying across the yard, turning into a bright silver weasel that announces the Minister of Magic is coming to visit them.

* * *

The blond woman sits across James, winking at him.

‘Look’, he begins, his voice much graver than usual. ‘I’m flattered and all, but I’m _married’_.

She raises her left hand to move her curls out of her face and he sees the golden ring shining there.

‘So am I’, she replies slyly.

‘Even worse. A woman like you, I am sure you have a jealous husband’.

‘Nah, he knows I’m faithful’.

James raises his eyebrows, looking at her leg that she is slowly sliding over his own leg.

‘I see’. 

‘Let me tell you my idea’, she approaches him, ‘why don’t we take a stroll outside this tent? No one would notice it. We can keep it a secret’.

He looks around. She is right in the sense that no one will throw them a second glance if they vanish in the middle of the party; people are dancing and talking excitedly around them and, in the middle of the floor dance, he sees Bill and Fleur in each other’s arms.

That makes his chest feel strangely heavily with longing. He can still remember his wedding to Lily, all those years ago. It was still the happiest day of his life - they had danced for hours, full of joy and disbelief that they got to be so in love, and he remembers how his parents had beamed, how Sirius had made the best speech ever, how Remus had drunk so much that he had screamed he loved them all and even how Peter had cried hugging them.

It all had been perfect, but that was a long time ago.

He lets the blond take his hand and draw him away from the crowd, only stopping to take a look at a ginger boy who is lying against a pillar and watching wistfully the floor dance. Harry seems to be fine, though.

It's quiet outside the tent and they walk pass other couples that seem to have had the same idea as them. Finally they leave all traces of people and they stand in the shadow of a big tree; the lights from the wedding tent shine in the distance like a thousand stars.

'It's beautiful', the blond says softly, raising his hand to glance at his watch.

'Yes', he agrees. There is something eerily beautiful in the night, or maybe it's just the feeling of peacefulness of the day. It's been a while since they had a quiet day.

A normal day as if they are not in the middle of the war.

She looks at him.

'You are supposed to look at me and say _I'm_ beautiful. What about cheesy lines?'

'I told you, miss', James sighs. 'I am faithful to my wife'.

She approaches him.

'Close your eyes'.

'Lily… it's _weird_ when you look like - well, not like yourself'.

She grins. The face is all wrong, but her smile is the same.

'Trust me, James'.

He breathes heavily, but if there is someone he trusts in the world, is Lily. So he closes his eyes, and after a few seconds he feels his body burning slightly, growing up a bit, and then the clothes he is wearing are suddenly fitting him better than it had minutes ago; the Muggle he had impersonated was much thinner than him.

And then he feels Lily's lips over his and there is her familiar taste, and he knows she is back to herself too. Even her scent returned; it seems silly, because she had been wearing the same perfume in her polyjuiced form, but somehow her scent had been as off as her appearance. They’ve been married for almost nineteen years now and still he missed her during the wedding; it was not the same having that unfamiliar woman by his side, as if even holding her hand made him feel like he was cheating on Lily.

So for the first time in weeks, he forgets all worries and lets himself enjoy Lily’s company, losing himself in her lips, feeling her curves over the silk dress she is wearing and hearing her soft moans in the deep of her throat when he presses her against the trunk of the tree.

‘James’, she warns, only mildly scolding him when he moves his lips to her neck. He would feel more reprimanded if she hadn’t been raising her head, giving him better access to her skin. ‘We should get back’.

‘We should’, he agrees, one hand holding the back of her hair and the other holding her waist and moving up. When his lips find hers once more, hands working expertly on each other, they don’t talk for a while.

Later, he takes off his jacket, placing in the ground so they can sit together, Lily’s back pressed against his chest while he combs her hair, undoing the curls there.

‘It was a beautiful wedding’, she says. ‘It reminded me of ours’.

James nods, knowing what she means. A wedding in the middle of the war, a day of peace in the middle of chaos.

‘Did you talk to Harry?’

‘Not today. I – did he mention anything to you?’

‘About when he will be leaving?’, she sighs. ‘No, but I think tomorrow probably’.

He huffs, and Lily grabs his hand.

‘How can you be so okay with that?’, he asks, upset.

‘I am not okay, James. But I’m trying to be supportive because I want Harry to remember he will always have us to come back to’.

‘And you think I’m driving him away?’

‘No’, she whispers softly. ‘I think Harry will be afraid he is letting you down. He cares more about your opinion than anyone else’s’.

James closes his eyes.

‘He won’t ever let me down. No matter how much unhappy it makes me feel… I am _proud_ of him’.

‘Then go tell him that’, she suggests softly, cuddling up more in his arms, and he presses her against his chest, letting her breath calm him.

‘I will – tonight, I… I will wish him good luck and –‘

‘No fighting?’

‘No’.

She smiles and for a moment they just stare at the wedding tent.

‘I love you’, he whispers. Lily turns to wink at him.

‘I know, you said it a few minutes ago’.

‘Did I?’

‘Oh, yeah. A lot of times, actually’.

‘It must be true then’.

‘I hope so. I love you back, you know’.

He grins, kissing her softly. His lips tingle after the kiss, even if it was barely a brush. That’s Lily’s effect on him.

Then she sighs, and searches in her purse until she finds two vials of potions that make him grimace.

‘Do we have to? The party is almost over by now’.

Lily just raises his eyebrows at him. He knows she is right – they have to be careful.

‘Fine, fine’, he raises, offering his hand to help her. ‘Let me turn into that guy whose only benefit is that his eyesight is great’.

She laughs.

‘I missed you’, she assures him, placing her hands around his neck to get closer. ‘So one last kiss before we change again?’

‘It may be more that just one kiss’, he warns her fairly, and he can feel Lily’s smile when he kisses her again. In fact, with the soft breeze of the night and the sound of music in the distance, James thinks maybe they can repeat what they did earlier, and Lily seems to have thought the same when he feels her hands touching his chest…

Then a scream cuts through the night and they hear sounds of people popping – the protective barriers of the Burrow had fallen. James sees the masked figures coming out of nowhere close to the house and he takes his wand just as Lily grabs his arm.

‘No, James, we have to go!’

He looks at her without understanding.

‘We have to help, we can’t –‘

‘We will only endanger people if they know we are here!’

‘But – Harry –‘

‘He is not stupid, he will be gone with Ron and Hermione’, she says, and James hears the desperation in her voice. ‘We will do no good to him if we are captured’.

He hates when Lily sounds so logical and he hates more that he knows she is right. Harry may be the type to sacrifice himself without a second thought, but he would never sacrifice a friend and especially not his parents. They must go hiding not for themselves, but for him.

But still, the idea of just going, of not searching for Harry - it feels like he is a coward.

'James!', Lily calls him again, giving him a knowing look. 'It'll be ok. We have to trust Harry. Please!'

He feels tears of anger in his eyes, feel a desperate need to go after those Death Eaters and make them pay until Voldemort himself comes for them - and then James swears he would kill him, anything to stop Harry from being in danger, anything that a father can do to protect his son.

But he can't and the worst part is he knows it.

So James looks at the wedding tent once more, hearing the screams and seeing flashes of light and then, with panic and fear dancing inside him, he and Lily turn on the spot and vanish into the night.


	2. Hope (where have you gone)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James can't deal well with being in hiding and argues with everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Changed the rate for Mature for mentions of violence, self-harm and swearing. James is too stressed out here.
> 
> For a while, I avoided writing if Sirius were or not alive - but here he is, breathing and annoying James.
> 
> And sorry about James' mood. Being in hiding, unable to help Harry, is really the worst thing for him; he is a man of action and he is too much worried.

James hates to be in hiding.

He remembers how it was last time, how locked he felt inside a house he couldn't leave, how the walls seemed to be closing around him and how he would try so hard to pretend everything was okay, so Lily would not hear him screaming behind closed doors, so Harry would not see him crying with hopeless tears.

But that time he had a reason, a one-year-old baby who depended on him for everything, who James would die to protect and who was worth any frustration he felt.

Now, his son is all grown up, far from him by his choice and James is left to stare at the fainted wallpaper of the small apartment he and Lily are sharing, hating everything about this place.

He misses his home; he misses the marks on the wall of Harry’s room that shows him growing up; he misses the burned spot in the kitchen were Lily once dropped one of her potions because of a prank James had made; he misses his large bathroom, with that bathtub where he and Lily would rest together in each other’s arms after a long day.

Where they are now it’s not a home.  _ Home is where your heart is,  _ his mom used to say and James had known homes before. Home was his parents’ house in Godric’s Hollow, where he lived with Lily for a few months before the house was burnt in Voldemort’s attack; home was the Gryffindor Dorm Room where the Marauder were born; home is their house in Dover, where they had lived for the past sixteen years, where they were a family.

Now his family is scattered and he is only in a  _ house. _

James knows it's a safe house, one that is already furnished with all the things they will need - one of the many safe houses they prepared over the country, which one safer than the other. They are ready for any scenario, but no preparation was enough for the boredom and worry that are James’ companies these days.

'Lily', he calls her urgently on their second night as he is preparing some soup neither seems in the mood to eat. 'We can't stay here. We need to check all the other houses - Harry might go to any of them'.

'James…', Lily is tired, he can see, with dark purple spots under her eyes that show that she slept even less than him that night. 'He won't go to any of these places. He has a plan to follow'.

'What plan? What do you know?'

'I don't'.

‘I saw you talking to him the day of his birthday, Lily, he must -’

‘That was - that wasn’t about any of his plans’, she admits, sounding defeated. 'We just have to trust him. Can you?'

That's playing low, James thinks. Of course he trusts Harry. That's not the issue here.

The problem is that  _ Harry _ doesn't trust him.

'He will be safe', Lily adds, warmer, trying to touch his arm; for a moment James thinks of avoiding her, of somehow sharing his misery with her, but he doesn’t. Lily is the only thing holding him up right now and he can't afford to lose her.

And as messed up as he is right now, he is the only support Lily has too.

So he accepts her touch and though she is the one buried deep in his arms while he caresses her hair, he feels she is the one giving comfort and warmth and hope.

It's an illusion that doesn't last much.

The days pass with hardly a few messages from Sirius' dog patronus. Except for the first message, sent hours after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, where he informed that everyone was safe and that Harry had managed to vanish from the party, his messages are vague, only informing everything is fine though James knows it must be far from it.

He deduces that Sirius is on the run too now that the Death Eaters are dominating the Ministry of Magic (Sirius was never one to pretend to bow his head and no Death Eater would likely believe him anyway), though why he hasn’t shown up yet is a mystery that James cannot begin to understand.

Knowing Sirius, James supposes that only hiding wouldn’t be enough for him - he is probably involved in some background operation, whether hiding Muggleborns or organizing attacks against Death Eaters and desperation burns inside James. He  _ longs  _ to do something, anything other than staring at the walls and trying to dig in Muggle newspaper about any piece of news that never comes - whatever the new regime is doing, they are hiding well from the Muggles.

Lily seems to handle it better than him, even though he knows she is not sleeping much. But unlike him that has nothing to do all day, she has her potions that she keeps preparing despite not giving to anyone - they won’t risk communication with anyone yet. It was always agreed that people would come to them when it was safe.

James supposes it’s not safe yet or maybe they were forgotten - James remembers people talking about how  _ Harry  _ is the  _ chosen one _ , how he acts as a beacon of hope for everyone, and James feels as if people think their only job was to raise Harry, prepare him to do his part. Now the job is done, now that even their love protection is gone, they are _ useless _ .

It’s a bitter thought and one that James feels even guilty of having it, but he can’t control. He was never one to be away from the action and this stupor is driving him mad.

All he knows is that the days drag without any change at all and he finds himself wishing that their hiding place was discovered just so  _ something  _ could happen.

‘We could go to Diagon Alley’, he suggests to Lily one afternoon, as she zaps through tv channels without really watching anything. ‘We have enough Polyjuice Potion now that no one would recognize us’.

‘We don’t know how it’s out there, James’, Lily notes, half-patient and half-annoyed. It’s not the first time James suggests some excursion outside.

‘I would look like a normal guy, it would be safe’.

‘Without any ID? Or what about your wand? What if they check to whom it belongs?’

‘Fine, fine’, he grumbles. ‘I get it, you don’t want to leave’.

‘ _ I  _ don’t want to leave?’, she turns to him, menacingly, her eyes narrowed and James welcomes that fight. ‘You may not have noticed while you were brooding, but this isn’t exactly a vacation for me either’.

‘Well, you only have yourself to blame for that’.

‘What?’

‘If you had talked to Harry like I told you we should, we could be with him now’.

She breathes deeply.

‘Not this again, James. We already discussed it. He has things to do’.

‘The things we have no idea what they are? Just like we don’t have a fucking clue of where he is? If he is even alive?’

Her eyes shine with tears but Lily just blinks them away.

‘I have to believe he is fine. And he is not alone’.

‘They are all  _ children _ ’.

‘They are older than when  _ you  _ decided to become an animagus to keep company to a werewolf’.

James stares at her, his mouth open.

‘It is  _ not the same _ ’.

‘Did you tell your parents what you were doing?’, she challenges. ‘Did you care whether you would die or not?’

‘Everything was under control’, James hisses. ‘We made sure that nothing would go wrong - we knew what it would mean for Remus if things went bad - do you think we were just messing around?’

‘I  _ understand,  _ James _ ’ _ , Lily says softer now. ‘But sometimes you have to make the difficult choice of keeping a secret and doing the right thing’.

‘You believe in that too, don’t you?’, he asks in a whisper, looking at Lily as if he never saw before. ‘That Dumbledore shitty quote that Harry is the only hope we have’.

There is a faint blush on her cheek.

‘I don’t understand the prophecy, I don’t think it’s the truth’, she says, but James doesn’t think she is being completely honest. ‘But for some reason, Dumbledore did give Harry a -’

‘ _ A job.  _ He gave our seventeen-years-old son a  _ job _ ’.

‘ - a clue better than anyone else seems to have’.

James stares at her, dumbfounded. Lily is being practical and reasonable as always, but he doesn’t need that now; he can’t deal with reason or logic or the fact that a dead man thought that to give his teenage son a clue was the best idea he could have.

He raises.

‘I have to get out of here. I can’t stay here any minute longer’.

Lily is up on her feet too, her hand in her pocket and James knows she is grabbing her wand.

‘You won’t leave, James. It’s dangerous’.

‘I can take care of myself’.

‘Not for you. For  _ Harry _ ’.

‘We don’t have a clue of where he is. Maybe I’ll just let Death Eaters catch me - at least this way Harry may come to see me’.

‘You are barking mad’. 

‘Of course I’m mad! I  _ hate  _ this place, I hate standing here while -’

There is a knock on the door, and then they freeze, watching each other nervously. James takes out his wand too, while Lily goes to the door; she flinches when someone knocks again.

‘Who is it?’, she asks.

‘It’s me, Remus’.

Lily and James exchange a look.

‘We will need more information than that, Wolfy’, James says, forcing his voice to  come out lightly.

‘It’s  _ Moony _ and once we ate so much chocolate that we were sick the next day, but we told people that it was from drinking firewhiskey’.

Lily turns to James, her eyebrows raised, and he shrugs.

‘Sirius would have teased us mercilessly’, he says, and with faint amusement, Lily opens the door to find Remus there, soaked from the rain outside in a trench coat.

Remus looks somewhat with more lines on his face and more white hair than the last time James saw him as if he aged ten years overnight, but Remus smiles when he sees them, clearly relieved they are well.

‘Come in’, Lily tells him, looking down the hall before closing the door behind him. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I wasn’t followed, I apparated directly in the building’.

‘Here, give me your cloak. I will make some tea for us’.

Remus nods at her, though James thinks there is something restrained about him.

‘How are you, Remus?’, James asks, noting that he hadn’t really answered it before. Remus waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, just like he used to do when they were much younger and he didn’t want his friends to worry about his transformation.

That self-deprecating gesture that talks of pains Remus thought he should just endure silently.

‘Fine, fine. Oh, thanks for the tea, Lily. I’m so glad to find you still here, I thought you might have needed to leave’.

‘Why?’, asks James, concerned. ‘What happened to the safe houses?’

‘Well, all that we protected through the Ministry have been searched by the Death Eaters, the protection has fallen in all of them’.

‘Yeah, we saw that at the Burrow’.

‘And even other places like this one - Sirius had to run after they found his place at Greenwich. We are not sure yet how they discovered it’.

James frowns, a familiar pressure gripping his heart.

‘Maybe someone betrayed us?’, he asks, and Lily puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

‘No, it can’t be, or else they would have found you. You are top priority, I guess’.

‘Priority? What’s been happening out there?’

Remus sighs and takes out an edition of the Daily Prophet.

As he speaks of how the Ministry has fallen and everything that he knows that happened afterwards, Lily comes to James’ side, their fight completely forgotten as they entwine their fingers in support for the horrors Remus is telling them.

‘Is there anything we can do?’, Lily asks in a whisper, when Remus stops talking. ‘Those Muggleborns…’

‘We are trying to help anyone we can, but it’s hard - you know how it goes, no one knowing who to trust’.

‘“We”?’, James repeats. ‘Who is in with you? Sirius?’

That makes a line of worry appear on Remus’ forehead.

‘Arthur has been helping me as much as he can, but most Muggleborns we know are on the run too. And Sirius - I thought you knew where he was’.

‘No, Sirius has only sent us three messages’, James notes, confused. ‘Why?’

‘Well -’, Remus seems lost for words. ‘I was under the impression that he was with Harry’.

‘What?’, Lily asks, while James blinks, Remus’ words not registering fully in his brain. ‘How come?’

‘It’s something he said on his last Patronus - something about how he was busy doing his godfather work and he wasn’t alone - are you ok, James?’

James blinks. He hadn’t noticed he had raised; his hands are shaking

‘Yeah’, he says, without moving, though he doesn’t even remember what Remus’ question was. Things seem to be all mushed in his brain.

Sirius - his best friend, his brother - is with Harry? Sirius, who never once showed up, who sent only three messages, who knew how James felt about Harry leaving for that quest?

And he is talking to Remus without even thinking of contacting James?

‘We don’t know where Harry is’, Lily says, and a part of James’ mind can detect the way her voice trembles. ‘But if he is with Sirius, then he is ok’.

She speaks the last part more for James, but he doesn’t really register anything, thinking only of how Harry absolutely refused his company and his help - but instead seems to welcome Sirius to his little quest.

What was James’ problem? He was too much of a parent? Maybe Harry needed someone brasher with him? Is that what Sirius has been doing? Acting like the cool father figure who doesn’t restrain him?

‘I will look for them’, Remus is saying and James forces himself to hear. ‘There are other safe places and maybe they went to Grimmauld Place, who knows -’

‘I will come with you’, says James. ‘We can find faster if -’

‘James…’, Lily begins, but Remus points to the newspaper, where there is a huge photograph of Harry and then two smaller photos of James and Lily.

‘You are being hunted’, he notes. ‘If any place is compromised, you will get caught’.

‘So could you’.

Remus shakes his head.

‘I am just a werewolf’, he says, and even in his stupor, James hears his self-depreciation there, one that he hasn’t heard in years. ‘I can get away with it’.

Lily narrows her eyes at him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

‘No, you can’t. You and Tonks have a responsibility now’.

‘What?’, James asks, truly surprised, and Remus presses his lips, looking annoyed. Lily turns briefly to James.

‘I thought you had noticed. She is pregnant, isn’t she, Remus?’

Remus inhales heavily and, when James looks at him, he nods affirmatively. James feels something clearing inside him, a tiny light to hold on in the deep darkness that has dominated him ever since he heard Remus’ news and for the first time in weeks he truly smiles.

‘Wow, congratulations, mate’, he says, raising, hoping to hug Remus as Remus did with him over seventeen years ago when James told him the news, but his friend doesn’t move.

‘Yeah, it’s - it’s something’, Remus notes, his mouth twitching into a grimace. James’ smile slowly dies and he exchanges a look with Lily.

‘What’s going on, Moony?’

‘Nothing’, Remus says, clearly dismissing him and raising, already grabbing his coat to leave. ‘Well, I have to go then. I will let you know if I find -’

‘Hang on’, James stops him, moving so he can be between Remus and the door because there is something wrong there. ‘You can’t go looking for Harry’.

‘I have to - whatever they are doing, I can help. Even if Harry can’t tell me, I am more than qualified for -’

‘And Tonks?’, Lily asks, something harsh in her voice.

Remus blinks and there is an expression on his face that reminds James of their First Year at Hogwarts, when Remus kept inventing excuses to disguise the real reason he was always sick or away from school. That weird mix of guilt and shame and fear.

‘She will be with her parents, they will look after her’.

‘Remus -’, Lily starts, her words coming hissed, just as James asks:

‘So what are you going to do? Go help Harry for nine months and then come back to your newborn child? That’s not -’

‘James’, Lily cuts him, through her gritted teeth, without taking her eyes off Remus. James has never seen her so upset with him before. ‘He is not planning on returning to his  _ wife _ ’.

She spits the last word and Remus flinches, without saying anything. Somehow what Lily has said sounds so alien to James that he has trouble understanding what it means.

‘How can you not - what does that mean, not returning? You are  _ what _ ?’

Remus’ face pales and he closes his fists.

‘I am doing what is best for her - for them’.

‘Running away from your family?’

‘I am not - this is not about running - I’ve made a mistake, ok?’, he looks at both of them, anger tears burning in his eyes. ‘I let you all convince me that I am normal - years of living with you, years of Wolfsbane Potion, years of pretending I could get a normal life - but I  _ know what I am,  _ and I am done pretending otherwise’.

‘You are a bloody fool, that’s what you are!’

‘I am a werewolf!’, Remus cries angrily, and James sees the shadow of the wolf he turns every month. ‘Werewolves don’t get to marry or to live a happy life. And above all, they don’t get to have a kid!’

‘It seems you messed this up, Moony’, James says, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

‘Remus -’, Lily calls, trying to appease them. ‘You don’t know if your condition is genetic, there was never a proof -’

‘There is nothing about it because  _ my kind doesn’t breed!’ _

‘Your kind? Breed?’, James repeats incredulously. ‘What are you talking about? You are  _ human _ ’.

‘I am not, James, no matter how much you pretended all these years. And how can I ever forgive myself for what I did? I am no better than Greyback - an innocent child -’

‘You are over worrying, Remus -’

‘Of course I am worried, Lily! I’ve made my wife an outcast, I’ve ruined her life -’

‘And your solution for it is to run away on an adventure?’, James asks, making Remus turn to him with fury and hurt.

‘This is not about an adventure or running away - I am thinking about your son!’

‘I would rather you think about your own. You know, the one who isn’t even born yet and his father doesn’t want to stick around?’

Remus seizes handfuls of his hair, actually pulling a few strands, looking desperate.

‘James, James. How can I look at my child’s face knowing that I risked passing my own condition? And if not, if by some miracle the kid is not like me… What kind of kid wants a werewolf for a father? It will be better off, a hundred times so, without living with the shame of me’.

‘Remus – you are the most compassionate person we’ve ever know, any kid would be proud of you -‘

‘No, Lily, he is right, his kid will  _ hate  _ him’, James hisses, and Remus takes a step back as if James slapped him. ‘What child wouldn’t be ashamed of such a coward father?’

‘I am  _ not  _ – I am thinking in what’s the best –‘

‘Best for  _ you _ . You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met –‘

‘I  _ know,  _ I shouldn’t have –‘

‘Not for marrying Tonks’, James rolls his eyes. ‘Get over it, will you? No one forced you two to elope. You loved her, she loved you back, you were two consenting adults who were in love and got married. Stop acting like it was a crime’.

‘It was a mistake -  _ my  _ mistake -’

‘But now’, James continues, ignoring him, ‘ - instead of facing reality – that you are going to have a child in the middle of a war – you are choosing to  _ flee _ ?’

‘It is for –‘

‘It’s for  _ you _ , Remus, stop pretending it’s for a noble reason. You are the biggest  _ coward  _ I’ve ever seen’.

‘James!’

‘Coward?’, Remus repeats, baffled. ‘I am trying to protect them – I thought you would  _ understand _ ’.

James lets out a cold laugh, ignoring Lily when she tries to grab his arm. ‘Understand? I would risk my  _ life  _ to be near my son right now and you really think that I would support you running away from yours? How can I understand that?’

‘Because you are  _ normal _ ’, Remus hisses, his eyes full of desperation, pleading for James to support him in a way that James never saw him ask before. ‘You won’t ever understand what this means’.

James raises the newspaper.

‘I am more hunted than you, your poor sad werewolf. I can’t leave this bloody place. Nothing here is normal and if you would take your head out of your  _ ass  _ you would see it!’

‘You are  _ mad,  _ James. All this time here is really getting into your head. I am leaving’.

‘Go on then, go live that reckless life. Go run away from your problems’.

‘Remus – no, come on, guys, we are all too stressed right now, let’s just breath and think this through –‘

But Remus doesn’t seem to listen to Lily either, passing in front of James with hatred still written on his face. When he is at the door, James adds: ‘You know, I always thought  _ Wormtail _ was the coward one, now I see – at least  _ he  _ had the  _ guts  _ to stick with his choices’.

Remus turns sharply, his wand already raised and James doesn’t have time to answer; there is a loud bang and then he is flying, falling on the glass table in the middle of the room. The table breaks and James feels the cuts of the glass on his right arm, even as his bloodied hand raises his wand, already thinking about the nastiest spell he can cast. But the door slams behind Remus with a loud bang, shaking the windows of the apartment.

‘No, Remus –‘, Lily cries, running after him and opening the door but James knows she won’t find him. He has probably apparated away, that bloody fucking  _ coward _ .

There is blood on his arms and blood pumping on his head, but James feels nothing other than pure hatred for one of his best friends.

Lily turns to him, a disapproval expression on her face.

‘James –‘

‘Don’t start on me’, he warns her, knowing this will be a bad fight if they begin. ‘He is  _ wrong  _ and you know it’.

She presses her lips, and James can see she is controlling her own temper.

‘I will take the medicine kit’, she says finally, vanishing into the bathroom.

James sits on the couch, watching the blood dripping from his arm on the floor with detachment. It should be hurting more, but all pain seems numbed by the discussion with Remus, by his sheer incredulity with the fact that Remus could come here and tell him that he was going to  _ leave  _ his unborn child – as if James would approve of it, as if all James didn’t want was to be with his own kid.

And he is the one that is supposedly losing his mind _... _

Lily takes his arm, administering her potions with ease. They agreed to avoid magic in that place as much as they could, so instead of fixing his arm with a simple incantation, she covers his arms with the healing potions, bandaging it.

‘It will be okay by tomorrow’, she says, her voice restrained, full of things she is not saying right now. James just nods.

His mind keeps reproducing Remus' face when he hexed him - that pain and fury and sorrow on his best friend's face. James  _ knows _ Remus deserved all of it, and maybe even more for the crime of letting his fear and shame dominate him. He is _leaving_ his family...

But as time passes, the room darkening as the sun sets, the pleasure James feels in remembering Remus' pain seems to fade too, replaced by a new weight very different from all the misery James had felt in the last weeks, as some other feeling apparent on Remus’ face turns more obvious to him.

_ Betrayal _ .

As if James had let Remus down. As if Remus needed some support, some guidance and James had turned his back on him.

It's dark when James speaks softly: 'Lily? Was I wrong?'

She moves now, lighting the room. Her expression is unsure.

‘Yes. No. You were both wrong’.

‘Do you think he will come back?’

‘Depends, are you thinking of hexing him?’

‘No, I meant for Tonks’.

Lily sighs, coming to sit next to him and laying her head on his shoulder.

‘I don’t know. He loves her, but he was always too hard on himself. If he really believes they are better without him -’

‘He is not right, though, is he?’, James asks, sounding desperate now, because he needs some approval that at least on this he wasn’t wrong on the fight with Remus. ‘Leaving his kid -’

‘It’s not right’, Lily agrees, and James’s sudden relief lasts until she talks again. ‘But you could have told him that in a different way’.

She is right and her words weigh on him. He has a mind to go out looking for Remus - for once not because of his desperate will of leaving that place, but for making up with him -, but he knows it’s senseless. He has no idea of where Remus could be right now.

But he truly wishes Remus is back with Tonks. He understands, as much as he can, how conflicted Remus is about his feelings for her, how he sees himself as unworthy of being loved - he accepted the Marauder’s friendship like a sailor feels lucky of finding a remote island after a shipwreck, but fully accept Tonks’ love for him would be like accepting true rescue after years without hope cast away on that island. And Remus never felt he deserved to be saved.

James had seen Remus refuse that love, ignoring his own feelings, and how miserable it had made him, how reckless and unlike himself he was last year, when Remus had disappeared in an Order mission to live among werewolves. It would be an honourable mission, but Remus had entered Greyback’s pack, so it had looked and felt more like a suicidal attempt than anything.

They all had been mad with him and they all tried to talk to him. Lily had been patient, Sirius had been angry because he was hurting Tonks and James had listened and tried to reason with him.

It had taken Dumbledore’s death and Tonks’ admission that she didn’t care at all for what he was for Remus to, for once, accept his feelings. They had married without telling anyone - something that Sirius had taken personally despite being glad they were together - and then for a month, Remus was the happiest James had ever seen.

Now he thinks about it, he should have noted before - how there was some shadow in Remus' eyes in the last time they had seen him, how the guilt was once more crushing him.

James had been too worried about his own problems to notice it.

And now he sees he is a horrible friend just like he is a horrible father.

No wonder Remus left him. No wonder Harry prefers Sirius’ company than his -

Lily raises, waking up James from his reverie. He grabs a broom to clean the mess of glass in the living room and for a moment he just stares at it, watching his broken disfigured reflection on the shards of glass.

A memory comes to his mind of Harry telling how he cut his finger with the remains of the first enchanted mirror James gave him.

_ The mirror _ .

He ignores the mess in the living room and goes to the only bedroom of the house; he waits until he hears Lily turning on the shower in the bedroom to grab the mirror he keeps above his bed, always ready for any call.

There had been none so far. There are two people in the entire world that can talk to him through that mirror and not one of them has called, but James doesn’t let it bother him; he’d never thought of calling them before either, but now - if they are together - if they are safe - they can answer his call.

He takes the mirror in his hand. His reflection is clear now, but James is not proud of the man he sees there; he looks haunted. His face is pale, making the purple under his eyes seem deeper, and there is no gleam on his eyes. His beard is growing without control and his hair seems messier than ever, but not like his usual organized mess. It's the face of someone who looks to have given up and he promises himself he will change that.

After.

His voice is trembling when he looks deep in the mirror and calls loudly: ‘Harry!’.

The mirror doesn’t change.

‘Sirius!’, he tries again. ‘Padfoot’.

Nothing. His heart beats faster, refusing to accept that silence. He had been so positively sure they would hear him...

‘Harry! Sirius! I  _ know  _ you are there. Answer me!’

Only his angry face stares back.

_ ‘Fuck,  _ guys! This is not a joke -  _ Sirius!  _ I  _ know  _ you have the mirror, you  _ never  _ went a day without it!’

His hand presses the mirror closer to his face, his hand burning with the pressure.

‘You were supposed to be my friend, Sirius. I trusted you - and now you are hiding with my son from me? What kind of friend are you?’

He thinks he sees his image flickering, but it’s just his hands that are shaking, uncontrollably, as he feels all that built-up rage inside him finally exploding.

‘ _ I hate you! _ ’, he screams. ‘I don’t want to ever see your face, your bloody traitor!’

And he throws the mirror away, feeling a sinister pleasure as he hears the mirror breaking, the sound of all its tiny glass fragments falling on the ground.  _ They don’t want to talk to him, now they can’t at all - _

_ They can’t talk to him _ . By Merlin, what has he done?

He runs to the mirror, taking out his wand in desperation. ‘ _ Reparo _ !’.

Nothing happens and the worst part is that James knows it wouldn’t. They - he and Sirius, a lifetime ago, when they couldn’t bear the tediousness that it was to be apart from each other during separate detentions - put too many charms on the mirror for it to repair magically.

James just  _ lost  _ one of the only ways of contact he had with two of the people he most loves in the world.

He takes the biggest shard of glass he can find and closes his hand around it, ignoring the cut it makes and the blood that is once again dripping. There is no pain in that cut that is stronger than the pure despair he feels for his inability to do anything at all, the fear and shame and guilt he fears.

_ ‘ _ Just  _ answer  _ me’, he pleads to no one and his voice is as broken as the shard he holds in his hand.

He is sobbing, with a pool of blood under his right hand, when Lily finds him.

* * *

Nothing changes as the days of August pass by; Lily tells him that no news is good news and James doesn’t retort only because he doesn’t feel like he has enough energy to do so. It happens a lot these days; the numbness, staring at nothing, not feeling hungry or tired. He is just… living.

In a clear effort to let him out of this stupor, Lily says that since they spent three weeks without anything remotely strange happening around them, their place is still safe enough so they can venture outside. Nothing too reckless - a walk to the nearest store to replenish their food storage, some minutes outside so they can breathe another air other than out of that apartment.

The first time he leaves the building and he feels the sun on his face - albeit a transfigured face so it’s harder to recognize him -, James feels a little bit alive again. He feels  _ free _ .

It’s an illusion that lasts the sixty minutes it takes him to slowly go to the market, buy the things they are starting to miss and return to that closed tight apartment. His eyes go to the nearest woods - a tiny forest he can see from the window of the kitchen - and he longs to go there and change into his stag and run wildly. 

But he can’t. Lily is waiting for him and, if he is honest with himself, being away from her makes him feel apprehensive too; their place is safe and hidden, but what if something happens just now that he has left her, what if this is the time the Death Eaters were waiting to ambush them, what if he returns and Lily is - but he  _ can’t  _ even think about it. He won’t ever forgive himself if anything happens to her…

Lily smiles when he enters the apartment, slightly out of breath after running upstairs as fast as he could, and James drops the bags of shopping on the floor, without thinking, rushing to embrace her. If Lily is surprised, she doesn’t show - she returns his hug, placing her hands around his neck and raising to let their foreheads touch, her eyes closed as she seems to rejoice the fact that despite everything that is happening, they still have each other.

‘I was worried’, she whispers, sounding as if she is almost ashamed of her own concern. He cups her face, making Lily open her eyes to stare him back.

It’s a familiar sight and one that James knows he won’t ever forget, that of her brilliant green eyes shining with love for him.

Even after all these years, he still feels unbelievably lucky that Lily loves him too.

‘I will always come back’, he promises, and it suddenly implodes any thought of turning into a stag and leaving her. He still hates that apartment. He is still madly worried about Harry. He still longs to do something. But there is not any part of him that considers leaving Lily.

Not now, not ever.

She kisses him softly, her hands clinging to the collar of his shirt, and James deepens that kiss, rejoicing in her sweet familiar taste, in the softness of her skin, in the body he knows better than his own.

‘I love you’, he whispers, during and afterwards, and Lily’s arms close around him as they lay on a bed he hates, but for once James doesn’t think of it. Lily’s arms are home too.

* * *

On the evening of September 2nd, James and Lily are together in their room, reading the Muggle newspaper of the day, when there is a loud crack in the living room.

James raises immediately, his heart beating faster and the wand already on his hand. Lily is by his side, her face nervous and they both know what the sound meant. Someone apparated inside an apartment that should be protected against it.

In the living room they find the weirdest scene.

There is a house-elf helping a bloodied man fallen on the floor.

James takes a full second to recognize Sirius there and another second to realize it's Kreacher holding him. He doesn't know what surprises him more: if their sudden apparition or that Kreacher is really trying to help Sirius.

The second of surprise is over and then he and Lily rush forward, well trained for helping in situations of post-battle despite the fact it's over seventeen years since they needed to do something like that. They leave any questions aside, any worry for what explains Sirius’ cuts and his unconscious state, just concentrating on stopping the bleeding on his chest, on making sure he stays alive.

It takes them thirty minutes to stabilize Sirius, to look at each other and know that now they only need to wait for Sirius to wake up in his own time.

‘We’ll need more ingredients for a Blood Replenishing Potion’, Lily whispers to him, passing her hand nervously through her hair in one of the quirks she steals from James when she isn’t noticing what she is doing. ‘I only have half-a-dozen bottles’.

‘Do you think he will need more?’

‘We don’t know what…’, she takes a deep breath, turning to Kreacher, who is staring at Sirius with concern in his eyes, using his own clothes (cleaner than the last time James saw him) to dry his sweaty forehead. ‘What happened, Kreacher?’

The house-elf turns to her, looking in deep conflict to even acknowledge her presence, and James remembers that he never could stand Lily because of her blood. This feels him with fury, and he remembers also how Kreacher once helped to lead Harry into a trap - oh, Merlin, if Sirius is hurt and he was with Harry -

‘Kreacher - we need you to tell us - did you do something to him?’

The elf blinks at him, and James thinks he looks strangely upset before he disappears with another crack.

James and Lily look at each other, confused.

They take Sirius to the bedroom and they take turns to watch over him during the night, but he doesn’t wake up. The next morning, Lily leaves to buy any ingredient of the potion she can improvise without access to a magical apothecary, and James watches his unconscious friend.

The longer it takes for Sirius to wake up the anxious he becomes with the questions inside his head.  _ What has happened? How is Sirius so hurt? Where is Harry? Why was Kreacher with them? _

And Sirius looks so still laying on that bed, his face too pale, the cut shining red on his chest, that James fears if maybe there is something darker going on that he and Lily didn't take care properly; this is not the first time he saw Sirius injured - it was bound to happen after years working as an Auror -, but the other times Sirius had been on St. Mungo's, with proper care and being watched over…

'Water', a raspy voice crooks and James blinks out of his reverie to see Sirius' broken lips whispering it again. 'Water'.

James raises at once, going to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water he helps Sirius to drink slowly, his eyes still closed and looking as if only this small gesture is consuming all his strength.

It's only a sip, something to allow him to wet his lips until they can give him more potions, but Sirius seems a little better. His lips tremble and he opens his eyes; James stares at that pair of grey eyes that are part of his life ever since he was eleven and, for a moment, he just feels relief that Sirius is awake.

But Sirius looks past James around the room with some small recognition of where he is, until his eyes return to James and he asks:

'Where is Kreacher?'

That's it. 

One month without no communication, ignoring James' plead for him to come, keeping Harry away from him, and all that Sirius is concerned about is with a fucking house-elf he doesn't even like?

'Gone', he says coldly, crossing his arms. Sirius pales even more.

'You - you mean -',

'He is not dead, though I couldn't care less. He just dropped you and fled'.

Sirius shakes his head minimally.

'He must have gone hiding', he crooks, his chest rising too fast, the words evidently costing much. 'Smart elf…'

'Not smart enough to take care of you. He had to drop you here'.

Sirius doesn't seem to notice his sarcastic voice.

‘I told… he should bring me here and be safe -’

‘Sure, because his safety is your main concern -’

‘James -’

‘Who  _ cares  _ if our safety spells are unaffected by elf magic? Who cares if Kreacher can betray us? Not you, for sure’.

‘It’s not - Kreacher won’t betray me -’

‘Again, you mean? Or you forgot your near-death experience because of him? Or how Harry almost died in the Hall of Prophecies?’

Sirius shudders, trying to get up but evidently too weak for that.

‘He is on our side now - he’s been helping us -’

‘Us, you mean you and  _ my son _ ?’

‘James, we - you don’t understand -’

‘I  _ called  _ you. I  _ begged  _ you to answer me’.

‘I… I  _ know _ .

If someone had asked him about it, James would have defended that Sirius wasn’t with the mirror when he’d called, because he never thought that Sirius could have heard him and ignored him. They always had each other’s back. They would never let each other down.

Until now he sees how wrong he was.

There is a moment of silence, in which James and Sirius just stare at each other. A part of James thinks that Sirius looks really apologetic, a sad expression on his face that James saw for the last time when Sirius got the news that Regulus Black had died.

An expression that spoke of how he wished he had done things differently but now it was too late.

James certainly feels it’s too late. 

‘Where is Harry?’, he asks, his voice sounding strange to his own ears as if he is not the one talking. Sirius looks away.

‘I don’t know’.

‘Is he alive?’

‘I - I think so. He escaped’.

_ Escaped _ . What? A trap? A chase? Voldemort himself?

He could ask, but Sirius doesn’t look like he wants to give any answer to James. If he did, he would not have kept so many secrets.

He would have answered James before.

He would have acted as his best friend - no, he would have acted as James’  _ brother _ .

James raises, blinking, ignoring Sirius when he looks back at him.

‘We will stay here until you are better. Afterwards, you can keep the place if you want, I don’t care. Lily and I will be gone’.

‘To where?’

‘To a safe house where no elf can find us’.

‘James – don’t be like –‘

‘Like what? Like someone that’s all secretive?’

‘Like someone who doesn’t understand what is at stake!’, Sirius replies, his face flushing now with anger. ‘You know what we fight for – and what we would die for!’

‘I know it’s  _ my son  _ out there and you don’t look like you care at all! He could be as hurt as you, and yet you only ask about that prejudiced house-elf that it’s the remain of a family you  _ always  _ hated –‘

Something sparkles in Sirius’ eyes.

‘My family –‘

‘ – is  _ all  _ dead!’

‘James…’, Sirius looks somewhat desperate now as if he wants James to see something beyond James’ comprehension. ‘There is something you don’t know… My brother – Regulus –‘

‘Your _ brother _ ?’, James repeats, beyond reason. ‘You told me he wasn’t your brother the day we discovered a Dark Mark on his arm. You  _ cried  _ when you found out Regulus was dead and I hugged you and I  _ promised  _ I would not ever leave your side because  _ we  _ were truly brothers’.

‘You  _ are _ , but so is he’.

‘He was a bloody Death Eater who got too coward to –‘

‘DON’T!’, Sirius rises suddenly, looking furious even as his face loses all colour with this movement. ‘Don’t you  _ ever  _ talk about him again’.

‘I don’t plan on ever talking to you again’, James notes coldly, leaving the room without looking back.

* * *

Lily knows something is wrong but James refuses to say anything. He helps her prepare the potions without a word and, when she goes to give them to Sirius, James lays down on the couch and grabs one of the Sleeping Potions he took out of Lily’s stash, drinking it before she can say anything.

He has a vision of Lily’s eyes shining with worry for him before he sleep takes over.

He longs to flee that anger and pain that comes from thinking about Sirius, but his mind doesn’t collaborate with him. He dreams of that prank.

It was Sirius’ worst idea, born of a bad discussion with Snape and another bad discussion with his own brother. Sirius had never been good at thinking things thoroughly, but when he had missed dinner, James didn’t think much of it, concerned with coaching Remus to grab a decent dinner even though he already looked pale sick with the approximation of the full moon.

He went with Moony to the Hospital Wing for support, promising they were really close to finally becoming animagi to be with him, and when he returned to the Common Room, Sirius was grinning satisfied.

‘What?’, James had asked, looking from him to Peter, who seemed equally baffled with Sirius’ unusual sparkling mood.

‘You will see tomorrow’.

James could have let it go, but Sirius’ smirk didn’t change as they took out their school material to study, so James had blinked to Peter – who understood immediately and went away – and sat nearer Sirius.

‘Last time someone sat that close to me, James, I got lucky’, Sirius had noted, winking at him.

‘You  _ wish  _ you could get lucky with me’, James had teased playfully. ‘So, what happened?’

‘I told you, you will see’.

‘I was born one month earlier, you know, I can’t wait’.

Sirius had laughed, turning away to his essay. ‘It’s just something that will solve our problems – well, Remus’ problems, but his problems are our own too, right?’

‘Right’, James agreed, curious. ‘But I thought what would help him was our… animal project?’

‘That doesn’t solve our  _ snivelly _ problem’.

James had rolled his eyes, a grimace on his face as he thought of Snape.

‘What did you think of?’

‘Just of a good scare… I bet he will  _ cry  _ when he sees it…’

‘See what?’, James asked, but Sirius only winked, his smirk stronger now, almost dark. James had a thought of not insisting, of letting it go, but there was something wrong about that expression on Sirius’ face. ‘Sirius – what did you do?’

Sirius had pressed his lips in an obvious demonstration that he didn’t want to say anything, and James had waited, keeping his stare with patience. Sirius would tell him; he had to believe in it, because he couldn’t think of anything that James himself wouldn’t ever tell Sirius.

And after a few minutes of silence, Sirius had blinked, looked around to make sure no one was listening, and had told him what he had let it slip to Snape.

And James had looked at Sirius, blood leaving his face, and asked him: ‘What have you done?’

Then he had left Sirius and had gone to save Snape from his own stubbornness. Later, much later, Sirius had come to him, his eyes blood red, full of sorrow, and James had hugged him and forgiven him because no matter what, Sirius had told him what he did.

And that’s why James had stuck with Sirius when they had to confess to Remus what had happened, and why he refused to stop talking to Sirius even when Remus was still furious about that prank.

That is one of James’ most essential aspects. Not a fault, not a quality. Just part of who he is.

He never leaves his friends’ side.

James always thought it was mutual. Except that time when Peter sold him out to Voldemort. Or when Remus had hexed him and left him weeks ago. Or now that Sirius had refused to answer his call.

He doesn’t feel like he slept at all when he wakes up. It’s dark outside, probably the middle of the night, and he shudders when he looks at the moon coming from the window. It's a full moon tonight.

He thinks of Remus, not for the first time since their fight, and wonders where he is. If he is back with his family – or if he is still on the run, drinking away the misery of his life. If only James had talked to him differently... if he were more compassionate, if he had tried to make him see reason and discover for himself the things Remus already  _ knew  _ were the right thing to do…

If only James had been a better friend...

After a few seconds, he realizes that what woke him up are the sounds coming from the hall.

‘You are not well, Sirius’, Lily is whispering.

‘I am fine enough to travel. I don’t want to stay here –  _ he  _ left very clear I’m not welcomed’.

‘Don’t be stupid, it was just a silly fight –‘

‘It wasn’t  _ silly  _ – he is out of his mind –‘

‘The fact you vanished with Harry without telling us didn’t help, you know’, Lily snipes, her voice mildly light just so her words don’t come too acid.

‘Not you too – I didn’t  _ vanish  _ with him –‘

‘I am not arguing with you, Sirius – not until you and James make up, at least’.

‘We won’t – he is  _ mad _ with me and he won’t get over it, not until Harry is back and that doesn’t seem to be happening anytime soon’.

‘Do you…’, her voice dies, and James hears her sighing. ‘Come to bed, you are dead on your feet’.

The fact that Sirius goes without complaining talks much about his health condition. Their voices are muffled by the door, so, without thinking about it, James rises quietly, going to the hall and stopping near the half-closed door of the bedroom.

‘Here, take this potion. You are feverish’.

‘I am fine’.

‘I think you lied enough, Sirius. Just drink it’.

There is a pause.

‘I didn’t  _ lie _ ’, he whispers. ‘I was in Sussex, helping to forge papers to a Muggleborn family when I got Harry’s call. I didn’t know where he was until then or what he was up to’.

‘And where he was?’

‘Grimmauld Place’, there is the usual disdain in his voice talking about the place. ‘Yeah, I know, apparently Moody’s curse was enough to hold Snape’s tongue – or he didn’t think we would be stupid to use the place again, but whatever it was, it was a safe house for Harry’.

‘Why Harry called you? He could have asked us…’

‘Because I was the only one that could have helped him with what he needed’. There is a cough. ‘He needed  _ Kreacher _ ’.

‘An elf?’

‘Not any elf – they were looking for something that was taken from Grimmauld Place and there was a chance Kreacher could know’.

‘Ok…’, Lily sounds really confused. ‘What was it?’

‘An old locket – Kreacher knew what had happened – Mundungus had taken – but that’s not the important thing. Kreacher… he told us a story’.

Now Sirius’ voice is barely a whisper, broken and heavy, and James hears the bed cracking. He supposes Lily is sitting next to Sirius, and he takes a step close to the door.

‘Sirius?’, she asks softly.

‘He… he tried to do the right thing’, Sirius murmurs. ‘He was always mocking me for being reckless and for shaming the family and he  _ died  _ being brave…’

‘Sirius? Who died?’, Lily asks, but James suddenly knows even before Sirius’ answer. There is only one person that can bring that sorrowfulness to Sirius.

‘Reggie. He – he was a  _ hero _ ’.

That is not what James expected to hear.

He remains motionless as Sirius explains, in a trembling voice, Kreacher's tale - how Regulus discovered some secret, how Regulus was mad of how Kreacher had been treated and how Regulus had gone to sacrifice himself to collect whatever it was that was being kept in that cave.

The same place, James understood, that Harry had visited with Dumbledore the night he had died.

'Oh, Sirius', Lily whispers soothingly, her voice shaking too, and James can picture how they must be hugging each other. He wishes to move, but his feet seem glued on the spot.

'He died with me  _ hating _ him…'

'You never really hated him, Sirius, not really. You were just upset with his choices -'

'And the one good choice he made I wasn't there. He died  _ alone _ because of it'.

'But… now you know. Now you understand why he vanished…'

'It's not really a consolation'.

'I know'.

There is another moment of silence and James hears Sirius sniffing. After a while Lily asks in a small voice: 'What was in that cave?'

And now Sirius talks almost detachedly of the Slytherin locket, and how Kreacher wasn't able to break whatever it was and how it was stored until Mundungus Fletcher stole it.

'Did you find him?'

'Oh, we did, but if only it were that easy'.

Sirius tells of stalking Mundungus with Kreacher until they were able to track him down and take him to Grimmauld Place, where he confessed to whom the locket belonged now.

'That  _ cow?' _ , Lily asks disbelievingly. 'Of every witch in the world, he had to lose it to Dolores Umbridge?'

'At least we knew where she was', Sirius replies and now there is a tiny note of mischief in his voice.

'The Ministry', Lily says and then she pauses. 'Don't tell me…'

But Sirius tells her how he helped Harry, Ron and Hermione to put in use all his knowledge of the Ministry of Magic to break in the place.

'That's where they went yesterday morning', Sirius says, a little somber now. 'It was a good plan, Lily, everything plotted and accounted for, but…'

'There is always one, isn't it?'

'Something went wrong. I don't know. I was with Kreacher waiting for their return when there was a blast outside the front door and then that Death Eater - Yaxley - was breaking in the place, firing curses, and one of them hit me in the shoulder and I was losing so much blood… and Kreacher came to help me'.

'He has changed that much?'

'He… he understands now. I think. We found common ground on our grief for Reggie, I suppose. The week we were off hunting Mundungus… we talked a lot. About Regulus' choices. About what he died for. And he… got better. Harry was right'.

'Harry?'

'He told me I should treat Kreacher well. That he was just never taught differently. He convinced me to give him the locket, Regulus' locket… and it meant a lot for Kreacher. He listened to me. Even was talking to Hermione before we left'.

'That's a change'.

'Yeah'. There is another sniff. 'I think Reggie would have been glad. He always cared for Kreacher'.

'Where is Kreacher now? Do you know?'

'Last thing I knew he was throwing Yaxley against the wall… I told him to bring me to you and then to be safe… I expect he returned to Hogwarts, but I can't risk calling him. Snape…'

'Yeah, I know', she cuts him, sounding tense. 'There was a Daily Prophet in your pocket. I saw he is the headmaster now'.

'Do you… do you want to talk about it?'

'There is nothing to say. I believed he had changed, he didn't. Apparently, only your brother was brave enough'.

'He was', Sirius agrees softly.

There is another creek on the bed and Lily sighs.

'You should sleep some more. You need to rest'.

'I am…  _ fine _ , don't give me your motherly look'.

'I can't help. Harry is not here for me to use my share of mother look'.

'About that…'

'I know you don't know where he is'.

'Why?'

'Because if you knew you would have gone to him, whether you are hurt or not. You truly are his godfather'.

There is a laugh that turns into a cough.

' _ He _ doesn't seem to think that'.

'James is just upset', Lily says softly. 'Too worried'.

_ Too useless, _ James thinks.

'And he hates me now'.

'As much as you ever hated Regulus, Sirius'. There is something heavy on Lily's voice. 'No matter how much you disagree or they let you down… you never truly hate your brother'.

'Or your sister', guesses Sirius and James can imagine the sad expression on Lily's face. 'I think I will rest some more now. I want to leave here tomorrow'.

'You can stay as long as you want - don't listen to James. He won't ever leave you'.

James wishes Lily didn't know him so well.

'It's not  _ only _ that… there are things I have to do. There is a support line that I neglected last month…'

Sirius' voice dies while Lily consoles him, but James is not hearing anymore. Despite his recklessness, Sirius is  _ responsible _ . James had heard him talking before to Kingsley and Tonks about making plans for anyone that needed to flee the country, or that needed to lay low - just as he had created a series of safe houses for James and Lily across the country.

And Sirius is proud of his work, like he was always proud of being an Auror and taking down dark wizards.

And yet he had ignored all that when Harry had called him for help.

Seventeen years ago James had helped Sirius hold Harry for the first time and he had seen that Sirius already loved that little baby; his grey eyes shone fiercely when he looked back at James and promised he would always protect Harry.

No matter what, Sirius had fulfilled that promise.

He jumps when he hears the door closing next to him. Lily blinks at him, not all surprised he is there.

'Go talk to him', she whispers.

James stares at the door for a long time, but he doesn’t move.

* * *

His steps are light and James remembers Sirius telling him smugly how he aced the test of Stealth on his Auror training.

His attempt to leave without being noticed could have worked, but James knows Sirius very well.

He is expecting him, warming the water for the tea, when Sirius tries to pass him on the way to the door. For a moment Sirius stops, his face comically shocked, as he stares at James in that tiny kitchen.

'I’ve made breakfast', James says in a small voice, trying not to wake Lily sleeping on a makeshift mattress in the middle of the living room. Sirius looks to the slightly stale bread that James has just called as breakfast, and then back at him.

He doesn’t look pleased.

‘I thought you would never talk to me again’, he says coldly, but he sits on a bench in the kitchen and accepts the tea James offers him.

‘Just thought you would like something to grab before you leave’.

Sirius sips his tea and James sits across him at the tiny table, both in silence, hearing only the birds singing outside. James looks at the window of the kitchen, seeing the woods there, and he longs once again to turn into a stag and just run.

‘I broke my mirror’, Sirius whispers. James turns back to him. ‘The day you called me. I wanted to answer you so  _ badly  _ and I knew that if I kept hearing your voice and… I knew that I would give in sometime. So I smashed it’.

James stares at him; despite Sirius’ upset face, he feels a sudden urge to laugh.

‘Me too. I mean -’, James takes out the shard of glass he keeps in his pocket all the time. ‘I broke my mirror too’.

Sirius looks at the shard, blinking fastly, and when his eyes meet James, they both end up laughing; it’s a silent, not very amused laugh, but somehow James feels better.

‘I am sorry about your brother’, James murmurs after the laugh dies, and Sirius smiles sadly.

‘I am too - I’m sorry he died alone, but… I’m proud of him. Wherever he is, I hope -’

‘He knows’, James assures, making Sirius nod.

‘I am sorry I didn’t tell you before that I was with Harry. He asked me to promise to keep it a secret. He knew you too much’.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He knew that if you found him, you wouldn’t be able to let him go - not again’. Sirius turns his head to look at him, looking very much like a dog. ‘You will need to, you know? You can’t keep him protected forever’.

‘Is that why he accepted your help and refused mine?’, James asks, a pain in his heart of saying it out loud.

Sirius sighs.

‘We were after a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin’, he explains. ‘Do you know why?’

‘No’.

‘Me neither’.

‘How come you didn’t know?’

‘Because I never asked. I let them tell me what they needed and I never asked for more’.

James blinks, trying to make sense of it.

‘You planned a break in the Ministry of Magic and you don’t even know why?’

‘I knew it was important’, he shrugs, unconcerned. ‘It was enough. And I knew that afterwards I would need to leave them, because they didn’t need my help anymore’. Sirius’ eyes burn into James’. ‘But you - you could never let him go. You would feel too much like you were abandoning him’.

James looks at his own hands, pretending he is in that hypothetical scenario, the one where he helped Harry get whatever it was he needed, and then he would have to leave through the door, knowing where Harry is and still not going back, letting him follow his own path.

Fear and darkness involve him and he knows he would not be able to not look back.

But Sirius, despite his worries and the fact that he cares for Harry too, he would go forward.

Even Lily. She would cry, her tears leaving a path behind her, but she would walk away.

It’s only James that can’t do it.

‘Is that  _ so wrong _ ?’, he asks, in a heavy whisper. ‘To worry so much about him?’

‘When he was a baby? No. But he has faced so many challenges now and he has survived them all - give him some credit’.

‘I - it’s not about me not trusting him or not thinking he is capable -’

‘Good, because he misses you a lot. He just wants to finish it so he can come back, you know? And he… he wants to make you proud. You and Lily’.

‘I just - I just wish it didn’t have to be  _ him  _ -’

‘So do I, but we can’t control it’.

There are a lot of things that are out of James’ control lately - his feelings included. He wishes it were easier to accept it.

‘Did you see Remus?’, he asks, making Sirius frown.

‘No, why?’

James raises his eyebrows. If Remus never went to Grimmauld Place, there is a chance of him recovering his sense after all. At least, that’s what James hopes for.

In any case, that’s not a story he wants to share with Sirius now; Sirius was always too watchful of Tonks, his protegee Auror at the Ministry, and he knows Sirius will be upset when he finds out what Remus did - or  _ almost  _ did.

‘Thought he would check Grimmauld Place’, James says, hoping to sound nonchalant. ‘Where will you go now?’

‘Check with Kingsley, see if I can find him - and you? You will really leave this place?’

‘It’s been safe so far, I don’t know. Neighbourhood is quiet - I just wish we could have some more access to what’s going on, even if it’s the Daily Prophet -’

‘Try The Quibbler’, Sirius suggests, the corners of his mouth quirking up. ‘If there is one newspaper not even Voldemort could -’

There is a loud crack coming from inside the apartment, though James can’t see the source. Lily wakes up with a startle, her eyes alert as she looks out for her wand, just as James and Sirius raise together. A second later, the door of the apartment burst open, and they don’t think, casting spells towards the intruder - but as far as James can hear, there are other people behind him, trying to enter the place.

‘Go!’, Sirius told him, casting a Shield Charm just as a curse comes toward them. ‘You two need to go!’

‘I won’t leave you -’

‘I will go as soon as you are safe - grab Lily and go!’

‘You -’

He doesn’t know what he wishes to say. He  _ can’t  _ let Sirius alone - Sirius is still recovering from his injuries and they don’t know how many are there - he doesn’t know how they were found or if there is any place that could be safe at all -

‘We will see each other’, Sirius promises him, locking eyes with him for a tiny second. ‘I will answer your call next time’.

It’s only words, James knows, because now there is no way for them to communicate safely. But the alternative is to doubt Sirius’ promise and that he can’t do.

So he throws another curse to one of the intruders, feeling satisfied when he falls on the floor, takes Lily’s hand - she nods to him, her face concerned and grave - and James has the last vision of Sirius fighting, spells dancing around him, as they vanish on the spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was hard to write because James fights _everyone_. Please leave your thoughts about it! :)
> 
> In the next chapter, James will be more in control (I hope) and no ending with they apparating away!
> 
> (P.S: If you need another version of James and Remus talking about Remus leaving Tonks, there is a version of this moment with a much calmer and more sympathetic James, called "A Figment of Your Imagination" on my profile).

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any thoughts, please leave a comment :)


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